The Sunday Before Oblivion
by The Readers Muse
Summary: "Either way you wanted to spin it, sleeping in was certainly a nice change."


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Primeval or any of its characters. Wishful thinking aside.

**Authors Note #1:** Set somewhere near the end of season three when Danny Quinn is still team leader. – Warnings: Slash, sensuality, fluffiness, and indications towards the season three finale. *****Special thanks to _Fififolle_ for her helpful encouragement and lovely beta work. All mistakes are my own.

**Authors Note #2: **This is meant to be a quick, 'day in the lives' snapshot of Lester and Danny's last few days together before the events of the last two episodes of Season Three.

**The Sunday before Oblivion**

He hummed into the crook of his arm. Legs scissoring languidly across the crisp sheets as he enjoyed the moment. No bloody cell phones vibrating or computers screeching. No anomalies, rampaging creatures, or deadly plagues chomping at the bit to wreck havoc on humanity as they knew it.

Honestly, it was rather… _nice._

In fact he felt positively boneless; pliable even. All but melted into the mattress and cocooned within the criminally soft embrace of high quality cotton and blue silk trim. Muffling the sounds of the outside world until they were nothing more than a soft, soothing drone, lulling him into the place that lay somewhere in between consciousness and sleep as his mind drifted into empty space.

…_God this was exquisite._

And as maudlin and melodramatic as it sounded, it was the kind of quiet that made him think about a winter's first snow fall. Caught up in that muffled, timeless sort of feeling that was significant in a way he couldn't quite describe. Or even that of an evening spent out on the moors, resting under nothing but the moonlight and distant stars. Looking up only to feel small, yet unbelievably connected all at the same time.

Either way you wanted to spin it, sleeping in was certainly a nice change.

He'd been so wrapped up in politics, the everyday busy work that comes with running the ARC, and trying to spend every spare moment after that with his children that somewhere along the line he'd forgotten what _this_ felt like. The quiet and blessed calm of a good old fashioned lie in…

"Hmmm someone looks comfy. Eh, love?" Danny beamed, a steaming cuppa in hand and sounding far too perky for… whatever time it actually was.

_Speak of the bloody devil…_

For a moment he just stared, taking in the man in all his bed rumpled glory, wearing nothing but a pair of old checked pajamas and a knowing grin. All indications that he hadn't been up for very long either as he let his eyes wander. Taking in the way the man's hair was still spiked to the side in a way that was half endearing and half downright _impossible_ according to everything he remembered about gravity and physics as the taller man loomed down at him.

"What time is it?" he slurred, breaking off with a jaw cracking yawn as he propped himself up on an elbow. Cocking his head and rubbing sleep from his eyes as he tried to bring the bedside clock into focus.

"Never mind that, guv. Today's our day off, remember? Free time and all that," the redhead replied, sending him a saucy wink above the pile of blankets as he leaned into the door jamb.

He let go of a mocking sigh, snorting indelicately into the duvet as the taller man slurped his tea. "Free time? I fear I've completely forgotten the meaning of the term," he replied with a quirked brow.

"Well good thing you have me around then, eh?" the man returned.

He had to admit that Quinn was fast on the pitch as he leaned in for a lazy kiss, mouth uncommonly warm and zinging with the fading tang of fresh peppermint as he grasped the redhead by his nape and took him down into the bed with him. Swallowing the man's grunt of surprise as Quinn lost his balance and splattered square on top of him. A right jumble of too long limbs and a criminally enticing looking chest crushing out a strangled bark of laughter from his throat as the man yelped and wriggled.

"Today there are no anomalies. No paperwork, phone calls, or responsibilities. Ain't no one here but us," Danny continued, hardly missing a beat as he rubbed his face into the curve of his neck, nipping down for a quick kiss, until he flicked the man away, not fancying having to come up with some sort of explanation for the stubble burn if they were called into work unexpectedly.

But as if to prove him wrong, a mere second later, Sid and Nancy chirped indignantly from their enclosure in the living room. Screeching and clicking as if in reminder as they raised a considerable amount of ruckus at being so conveniently forgotten.

He rolled his eyes, flopping to the side as he burrowed deeper into the sheets. That was all he needed on his day off, two slighted prehistoric pains in his arse mucking about his flat in search of mischief… _Insolent brats_.

"Oi! Shut it you two! I'm trying to put the moves on your daddy!" Quinn yelled, voice echoing up in the eves as one of the pair threw back a disgruntled sounding squeak in reply.

He fixed the man with an incredulous look, brow in danger of disappearing into his hairline as he glared up at the man from the muddling pile of sheets and bed warmed limbs.

"…Uncle then?" Danny tried, eyes crinkling in response to his withering look as he nudged the man towards the edge of the bed with one sheet entangled calf.

"So, tell me again how you got roped into Dino-sitting for the weekend?" Quinn asked innocently, switching the conversation seamlessly, as the man promptly and perhaps quite wisely changed the subject.

"Are you ever going to grow up?" he questioned, lips twitching into the mound of pillows as he ignored the man's question entirely, silently cursing Abby and her ridiculous doe-eyes as he winced at the memory.

_Christ_, he was absolutely pathetic when it came to that woman and her childish charms. Allow her one… alright, maybe _two_ hugs and then she was suddenly oozing around taking liberties.

…_Women._

"You better hope not or we'll both be fighting for a spot at the same nursing home," the redhead returned easily, "…grow up, my arse!" Quinn snorted.

"Speak for yourself," he came back, tone absent of its usual haughty snap as he shifted in the sheets, hooking Quinn by the armpit as he pulled the man deeper under the duvet, clothes and all, too bloody comfortable to muster up the effort to even think about stripping him down, body all heavy limbs and weighted down lids as he sunk deeper into the mattress.

"Growing old is completely detestable. Thus I have decided to regress from here on in. Far more fashionable, so I'm told," he retorted, stifling a yawn into the pillows as Quinn body shook with silent laughter, breath heavy with the lingering sweetness of tea and probably the last of the muffins they'd picked up at the bakery the day before as the ex-copper smothered his indignant huff with a heady kiss.

Plastering him flat against the mattress Quinn was quick to pin him down, taking advantage of his sluggish limbs and heavy lids as he pressed him into the sheets. Blunt fingers raking through his hair _just _so. All too aware of how it made him shiver in place, butting into the press of the man's hand in a silent plead for more. The sensation was enough to make his nerve endings _scream_. It wasn't fair and Quinn knew it.

Christ, the man knew him too well.

He knew they were avoiding talking about the real issues, such as figuring out Christine's next move, combating the growing difficulties of keeping the ARC afloat, and staying in the Minster's good graces. Hell, even waiting on proverbial tender hooks for Helen's next insane plot to utterly ruin his day. But for once he didn't care, content to pretend that the world and everything in it could bloody well _wait_.

_At least for today…_

So perhaps that was why his fingers tangled with the elastic of Quinn's pants, tugging them down ginger-haired thighs as his hand wrapped around the man's prick, stroking him gently as the man fisted the sheets above his head. Groaning in pleasure and surprise as the taller man began to thrust into his grip, lip caught between his teeth as he visibly fought not to cry out as one of his fingers circled the tip, smearing a small blurt of pre-cum with his thumb as the coarse glide slowly grew slick and easy.

Perhaps he drew Quinn in and brought him down for that slow, soul searing kiss because the world _wasn't _perfect. Perhaps he'd done it for the reason that tomorrow held the possibility of an insane, khaki wearing woman imploding his ARC for the _second _time around, just as much as it did a supremely uneventful day doing nothing but paperwork and keeping Connor's fanciful spending habits in check.

Or maybe he'd done it simply because he'd wanted to, because he wanted _this_… Quinn, and everything that came with it. Perhaps he wanted the man despite all the risks. Despite the fact that in their line of work, Quinn or even himself could be killed, torn down by a rampaging creature or take out by any number of a dozen or so different enemies. And maybe that level of want even scared him a bit.

Perhaps this, right here and right now was as close to the ridiculously sappy ideal of that single, four letter word as he could ever get. God knows he'd never been one for sentimentality and all that other gushy tosh, so perhaps his wilful ignorance of the entire matter actually fitted.

Quinn's hips snapped forward in a pointed thrust, teeth lancing down to mouth the sensitive patch of skin that stood out just below his right ear. "You're thinkin' too loud, guv…" the man murmured, cock throbbing in his grip as he tightened his fist on impulse.

_He was probably right._

"Quid for your thoughts?" the man asked, thrusts slowing as he dipped down to meet him for another lingering kiss, only breaking off with a muted gasp when he twisted his grip _just so_. The unexpected action sending the taller man bucking into his hands, nearly crushing him as his forearms wobbled, clearly struggling to keep himself upright as he changed hands and began stripping the man in earnest.

"A quid? Rather steep, don't you think?" he managed with a snort, hips hitching up into the press of the man's groin as the taller man ground down with deliberate slowness.

"…Inflation," Quinn hummed, not missing a beat as he grunted in pleasure, breath going stilted and heavy as he sped up his strokes and slicked his thumb over the head of the man's cock once and then twice. _…Two could certainly play that game._

But as deceptive and subtle as it was, Danny (as usual) actually had a point, managing to tell him something vitally important without the use of weighty words or severe inflections. That there was no use in dwelling or worrying about what the future might bring. It wasn't logical, or hell, even plausible if you stopped to think about it.

He shook his head, a small smile quirking across the span of his lips as he raked a hand through the tangle of reddish brown hair that crowned his lover's groin. Keeping him off balance and distracted as he thought it through. Perhaps Quinn was right. Right in thinking that at least for now, the_ present_ was all that really mattered.

So with that thought in mind he arched up, taking the man by surprise as he sent him sprawling across the rumpled sheets, flipping their positions as he threaded his fingers in that messy ginger hair and _tugged_.

And if Nancy and Sid shrilled and clicked in response, cocking their scaly heads and purring in confusion at the muffled bangs and cut off exclamations that followed. Well, they were both too busy laughing and playfully tussling for the upper hand to really care…

**A/N:** Please let me know what you think? Reviews and constructive critiquing are love!

"_Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleave of care. The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath. Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, Chief nourisher in life's feast."_ - William Shakespeare, Macbeth.


End file.
